


Take Me Higher

by withthekeyisking



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Edgeplay, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking
Summary: Dick didn't protest when Bruce pushed a butt plug inside of him before the gala, purring in his ear that he wanted him to wear it the entire time.Bruce neglected to mention that it was also a vibrator.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 29
Kudos: 217





	Take Me Higher

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw [this excellent thread](https://twitter.com/headec_/status/1365072979965714433) the other day and couldn't get it out of my head, so, fic. Enjoy!

Dick doesn't protest when Bruce pushes a butt plug inside of him before the gala, purring in his ear that he wants him to wear it the entire time.

They've just finished a round, and Dick is panting against the pillow, coming down, enjoying the way Bruce is trailing kisses down his spine. He feels Bruce's fingers rub over his hole and grunts a protest, in no way ready to go again, but what pushes inside of him isn't the fingers or Bruce's cock, but instead something rubbery and slightly cool.

He knows Bruce's collection of toys well enough to be able to identify it as the plug it is, and an amused smile tilts his lips at the possessiveness of the gesture; Bruce wants to keep his release inside.

"Leave it in for the rest of the night," Bruce murmurs against the small of his back, hands rubbing over his ass.

"We have a gala in an hour, Bruce," Dick hums, still smiling.

Bruce climbs up the bed, kissing his neck and then nipping at the shell of his ear. Having him on top of him is familiar and comforting by this point in their relationship, and Dick basks in the familiar weight as Bruce purrs, "I know. And you're going to wear this—" he nudges the base of the plug further inside, "—the entire time. Yes?"

Dick shivers and whispers, "Yes."

They both shower and dress, Dick true to his word never removing the plug. It makes heat rise to his cheeks whenever he feels it shift as he bends to pull on his pants, and when he twists to tuck in his shirt, and when he descends the main staircase. He steels himself for the night to come, knowing he's not going to be able to avoid thinking about the current state of himself—with Bruce's come still held inside of him—for the rest of the night.

At least he knows he'll get some pretty spectacular sex after it's all over. Bruce is always _extra_ passionate after having to spend a few hours pretending they're not together, especially if they're playing a game like this all the while.

The night starts off fine. He manages to adjust enough to the plug that every shift of it doesn't make him flush bright red, and the low, simmering arousal he feels he masks with lots of practice.

They've been at the party for half an hour when it happens.

Dick is speaking to Regina Wallace and her sister Melinda, two old-money Gotham elites who are smiling as they ask after his love life and he instead regales them with tales of Bludhaven. He's in the middle of a laugh at something not-quite-funny Regina said when there's a very sudden buzzing from the plug. It makes his laugh cut off with a gasp, his eyes widening in shock.

"Are you alright, dear?" Melinda asks with concern, reaching out to touch his arm.

"I'm fine," Dick says, trying to work his voice away from something strangled. The buzzing rises in intensity and he bites the inside of his lip to contain the noise that wants to escape. "Would you—excuse me for a moment?"

He leaves without waiting for a response, every step jolting the plug—the _vibrator_ —inside of him. He goes to the bar and asks for a drink as an excuse to stand still and not talk to anybody, and quickly scans the ballroom.

He finds Bruce standing on the other side of the room, some beautiful woman hanging off his arm, tittering at whatever Bruce just said. His smile is the lazy, attractive, slightly tipsy one he uses as Brucie, and his crowd of fawning sycophants eats it right up.

But Bruce's head tilts, and he meets Dick's gaze across the room, far sharper than the look he was giving those around him. And for the briefest moment, that lazy smile changes into a small smirk, and his eyes flick down, and Dick sees Bruce's cellphone clutched in his hand.

Understanding dawns. Dick's jaw almost drops with incredulity.

"You fucking _dick,"_ he whispers, and though there's no way Bruce can hear him, the older man's smirk grows for a second before it vanishes, expression wiped back to Brucie Wayne as he turns back to the group around him.

"Did you say something, Sir?" the bartender asks as he sets Dick's requested drink down by his elbow.

Dick opens his mouth to respond and the vibrator inside of him gives a sudden, sharp spike, making a strangled sound come out of his open mouth.

The bartender blinks at him, surprised. Dick stares back, utterly mortified. But this is Gotham and the Wayne family is notorious, so the bartender shakes himself and offers a polite, customer service smile that Dick barely resists cringing at. He waves the man off instead, taking a long sip from his drink, heart pounding.

He's already hard in his slacks. And while it's no longer buzzing as intensely as it was a moment ago, the plug is still going and showing no signs of stopping. And knowing Bruce...knowing Bruce, this is not going to end any time soon.

He takes a slow, deep breath. He can do this. He can do this, and then later he can tear Bruce a new one for springing this on him.

There's a slow and steady rise of the buzzing, and then a just as slow fall until it's barely noticeable. It only makes Dick suspicious, because no way is Bruce going to go that easy on him. He's already set them up for a rough night, and it's _Bruce,_ the most stubborn man on the planet. He isn't giving this up any time soon.

It rises again, faster this time and higher than it's reached before, high enough that Dick can almost _hear_ it. He clenches his jaw, gnashing his teeth together against the whine that wants to escape. The steady buzzing shifts into consistent, powerful pulses, and Dick swallows, cheeks heating. It feels almost like being fucked. And with Bruce's thumb literally on the controls...

Dick downs the rest of his drink. At least he can excuse his flushed face as the effects of alcohol, if people take note. He doesn't mind the world thinking Dick Grayson had a bit too much to drink, rather than what's actually going on.

The buzzing rises and rises, and Dick snaps his head around to glare at Bruce, unamused. Bruce glances over to him, and rather carelessly gives a gesture to the rest of the ballroom before his finger shifts on the phone and the intensity rises again. A small moan escapes Dick before he can clamp down on it, but thankfully there's no one currently close enough to hear.

Bruce's message is clear, at any rate. Dick is not allowed to just stand at the bar and wait this out. He has to act natural. He has to walk around and talk to people.

Fucking Christ.

Dick lifts his chin and stalks off into the crowd, decidedly not looking at Bruce anymore. The buzz eases, as if in approval for doing what Bruce wanted, and Dick takes the opportunity to breathe a little deeper and center himself, preparing himself for the rise sure to come.

He lets himself be pulled into conversation with some of the Wayne Enterprises shareholders. He nods and smiles in all the right places and pretends to be listening attentively, but his focus can't help but keep straying to the vibrator inside of him. Bruce is clearly having fun with it, changing up the speed and intensity at random intervals so that Dick can never fully adjust, never really able to brace for it.

A majority of his concentration really is on not making any embarrassing noises.

He can feel himself getting close. His cock is hard, pressing up against his zipper, his breathing a little short, arousal warm and thick in his gut. He can feel it coming, and his cheeks are flaming red at the idea of coming right here in his pants, in front of all these people. That shouldn't be as arousing as it is.

He's almost there, he's almost there, he's—

The buzzing cuts off completely, sudden enough that he nearly sways off his feet. He wants to shout with frustration as his approaching orgasm fades away, the complete lack of stimulation keeping him from tipping over the edge.

_Bastard. Rotten, horrible, awful bastard!_

He can feel Bruce's eyes on him, burning into his back. He's sure if he looks, he'll see amusement, so he doesn't look. Because he doesn't think he'd be able to stop himself from marching across the room and socking Bruce across the jaw. Or pulling him into a bruising kiss. Neither of which would be good out in public.

The buzzing slowly starts back up eventually, when Dick is talking to some pretty young debutante who is all but throwing herself at him. The plug vibrates inside of him, rising and falling like a tide, getting higher and higher with each one. He clenches involuntarily around it when it spikes sharply and suddenly, which only succeeds in shifting the plug to press against the edge of his prostate.

He can't contain the whine that escapes him, but he quickly turns it into a laugh, forcing himself to compliment the girl's sense of humor even when he has absolutely no idea what she just said.

Bruce, as if able to tell the sudden change, starts attacking him with a vengeance, setting a punishing rhythm that nearly punches the air from Dick's lungs. His toes curl in his shoes, his nails dig into his palms in the pockets of his slacks. He feels overheated, flushed, dizzy. He feels like he really wants to come.

Bruce lets him get close again. He lets Dick get right up towards the edge, hips flexing minutely in the air, and then he cuts it off, the plug once more falling still.

Dick nearly sobs. Only years of practice playing pretend out in public makes him able to swallow it back, but he excuses himself from the conversation, walking on shaky legs over to one of the tables that line the sides of the ballroom.

He sits down at an empty table, sucking in air. He feels unsteady, lightheaded. Twice now he's had an orgasm ripped away from him, and his skin is buzzing with it, his heart thudding in his chest. He wants to fucking come. He just. He _really wants._

The vibrator starts up again. A quiet but desperate moan comes out of him.

He finds himself grinding down against it as it gets faster and sharper, his breath coming in fast. He can feel sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. He has no clue how long this has all been going on, but it feels like goddamn _ages._

Bruce pulses it over and over again, that same feeling like he's being fucked like earlier. He can almost imagine Bruce next to him, forcing the toy inside of him over and over again, laying Dick out and making him beg for it—

He clutches at the edges of the chair, fighting the urge to hump against the table leg right in front of him. He wants friction on his cock. He wants Bruce to actually let him _come._ He wants to be bent over this table and fucked until he screams.

Heat pools in his gut. The vibrator pulses strong and deep, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. He can barely breathe around how much he wants it. Come on, come on, come on, come on, _please—_

A strangled, desperate, _"No,"_ erupts from him when Bruce cuts it off again. His vision is blurring, his body on fire. It's too much, too much, too much. He's overstimulated, oversensitive, and has received no release. He can't take it anymore.

It's when the toy starts buzzing again that he feels tears prick his eyes, and decides enough is enough. He gets sharply to his feet and strides across the ballroom, breath hitching as the vibration gets higher and higher and higher, but he ignores it and reaches the door, pushing out of the room.

He makes it ten feet down the hall before a hand wraps around his wrist and jerks him to a sudden stop, pushing him face-first against the wall before Dick can get his bearings and crowding him against it.

"You have any idea how you look?" Bruce growls, dipping down close to the Batman register. He grinds against Dick's ass, jostling the vibrator deeper and pulling a keen out of Dick's throat. "Fucked out, and I haven't even touched you yet."

"Bruce," Dick whines. "Bruce, come on, _fuck,_ come on—"

He cuts off with a groan as Bruce turns the buzzing up, hard enough that Dick can feel it all through his legs, can _hear_ it. _"Please."_

Bruce grabs him and whirls him around, slamming his back against the wall and making him gasp. Bruce immediately crashes their mouths together in a demanding and passionate kiss, and he shows off that legendary multitasking skill of his by continuing to play with the vibrator, punching it against Dick's prostate again and again, making Dick moan into his mouth without restraint.

They're not really all that far from the ballroom. It's possible that if Dick gets any louder, they'll be overheard. But he honestly couldn't give less of a shit in this moment.

Bruce shoves his hand down the back of Dick's pants, squeezing Dick's ass briefly before grabbing the base of the plug. He pulls it out just a little and then forces it quickly back inside, making Dick gasp and arch against him.

He feels Bruce smile against his mouth, and the older man doesn't stop, fucking the vibrating plug in and out as hard as he can.

Dick gasps and writhes between Bruce and the wall, already so pent up from all the fun Bruce has been having tonight. Already so on edge and desperate for release. He clings to Bruce's shoulders, hanging on for dear life as the vibration drags against his insides, pushing against his prostate on every thrust. Dick's cock is so hard it almost hurts and he can't stop moaning and gasping, lightheaded as Bruce's kiss refuses to let him get enough air.

"Been thinking about this all night," Bruce says. "Watching your face get redder and redder, seeing you twitch and gasp and _struggle_ to focus—all mine, not theirs. _Never_ theirs."

Some other time, Dick can address the possessiveness. Some other time he can reassure Bruce that of _course_ he's his, that just because they need to keep this a secret doesn't mean he doesn't love him more than life itself. But for now Dick can barely manage enough coherency to groan, _"Bruce."_

He comes just like that, Bruce plastered against his front, tongue claiming his mouth, the toy fucking in and out of him. His head thumps back against the wall, eyes drifting closed as he shudders through his orgasm. Faintly, he notes that the buzzing has stopped, and that his underwear is clinging to him with his release, but all of that is background noise to the gentle, loving way Bruce kisses him and cups his face.

Eventually he comes back to himself enough to open his eyes, and he smiles at Bruce a little dopily, enjoying the soft way Bruce is looking back at him. There are very few people who get to see Bruce like this, with his walls down. Even fewer who understand what a gift it is. Dick's always been in awe of it from the very first day, and he doubts he'll ever stop being so.

He cups the back of Bruce's neck and pulls him in for another kiss, slow and deep, humming into his mouth and basking in the closeness. It's when Bruce shifts that Dick feels the man is still hard, straining against his own slacks.

Dick breaks the kiss with a grin, nudging Bruce back a step. Holding eye contact, Dick sinks down to his knees, hands reaching for Bruce's belt and opening it quickly, then his button and zipper. He doesn't hesitate to pull out Bruce's cock and lean in to take it into his mouth.

He knows, from the dark look in Bruce's eyes, what Bruce wants right now. And he has absolutely no problem giving it to him.

He takes Bruce down to the root in one go, breathing through his nose and suppressing his gag reflex. Then he lets his hands drop to Bruce's thighs, gripping the material of his pants to brace himself before raising his eyes again, locking onto Bruce's and granting him permission.

Bruce takes a long, slow breath through his mouth and releases it through his nose. He reaches out a hand, caressing it over Dick's hair and then grabbing tightly at the strands, enough that it stings a little. He holds Dick's head in place as he snaps his hips forward, fucking into Dick's throat without hesitation, grunting quietly as he pistons in and out.

His other hand lifts, gripping the other side of Dick's head to better control him and yanking him down on his cock again and again to meet each thrust. Dick drools around his length, doing his best to breathe through it and relax his jaw, let Bruce use him. He's wrung out and nowhere close to getting hard again, but being controlled this way definitely has a small amount of arousal stirring in his gut.

Drool drips down his chin, hitting the floor between his knees. He feels like a mess, cum in his pants and ass, face red, drooling around another man's cock. His eyes flutter closed and he just takes it, enjoying the feeling of Bruce taking what he wants, the older man showing him the possessiveness Dick predicted earlier.

He would smile if he could.

When Bruce comes, he does it down Dick's throat, grinding his crotch against Dick's face as he fucks through it. Only when Bruce is satisfied and drained does he pull himself slowly out, resting the head of his cock on Dick's swollen bottom lip for a moment before drawing back completely.

He tucks himself away while Dick kneels on the ground panting, a little lightheaded but in a decidedly good way. Bruce reaches for him, pulling him gently to his feet and kissing him again, hands cupping his overheated cheeks. Dick melts against him, humming into the kiss.

"Let's head home," he murmurs when the kiss ends, pressing his lips to Bruce's cheek.

"Can't," Bruce says, and there's something in his tone that has Dick stilling. "We have to get back to the gala, remember?"

Dick stutters out a laugh and pulls back enough to look Bruce in the eye. "You're kidding, right?"

There's a glint in Bruce's eye, amusement or pleasure or something equally exasperating, and he says, "Not at all. Wayne Enterprises is one of the main beneficiaries, we have to stay to the end."

Dick laughs again, incredulous. "Bruce, I'm—I just came in my pants. I'm a _mess._ I can't go back in there."

A possessive turn of Bruce's lips as his eyes drag up and down, and despite himself Dick shivers. "You can have five minutes to go to the bathroom, and then I want you right back in the ballroom."

He presses a quick peck to Dick's lips and then turns on his heels and heads down the hall towards the still-cracked door, slipping back to the party like nothing happened.

Dick blinks after him for a moment, stunned at the request, the expectation. Nevermind that the idea of going back in there like this is...almost appealing, Bruce can't just _decide_ these things.

Dick can call Alfred; the man would pick him up without hesitation. He can go home, wash up, get into bed. Relax, after a rather exhausting few hours. Bruce wouldn't hold it against him at all, and if by some chance he does, Dick can make it up to him later.

Instead, he turns to find the nearest bathroom, counting down in his head what's left of his allotted five minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](https://boyblunder-thedarkheir.tumblr.com/)


End file.
